


Ache

by sociologize



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 18:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16247135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sociologize/pseuds/sociologize
Summary: Seth's heart was aching a lot lately, from all sorts of different things, reasons both big and small, but nothing made it ache like this more than watching Dean walk away.(Set after the October 8, 2018 episode of RAW)





	Ache

Seth's heart was aching a lot lately, from all sorts of different things, reasons both big and small, but nothing made it ache like _this_ more than watching Dean walk away.

But he was sure - _certain,_  he had to be certain, there was _no_ room for doubt - that this was just Dean blowing off steam.  Being hot over being the one who took the pin and their loss. That's all it was, he told himself and he said out loud to Roman, as they walked to the back and found Dean's things already gone  It was what he told himself as they showered and gotten changed and Dean still hadn't answered the text he'd sent before stepping into the showers. It was what he told himself when finally, after an hour of waiting around, he and Roman reluctantly caught a cab and took the short trip back to the hotel.

Saturday in Melbourne had been great, wonderful; a _necessary_ win in the books that had meant more than just a little checkmark in their favor.  It had reaffirmed a lot of things, shown the world that their doubts were unfounded.  All eyes had been on them and _especially_ on Dean, and the rough, long-fought battle had been worth it to see Dean get them the win.  In the end, the thing it'd reaffirmed the most was their _brotherhood_ , and fuck anyone who questioned it.  Everything Dean had said had been true, and that had been their proof.

(After, he'd crowded Dean against the hotel door as soon as they'd stepped back into their room, exhausted and sore but giddy and still running high on adrenaline and an overpowering _affection_ for Dean, had taken his face into his hands and kissed him, soft and messy and light because neither of them had were up for anything more than that.  But Seth had kissed him and told him how amazing he was, how thankful he was that he'd been there, no, shut up, he meant it, they wouldn't have been able to do _any_ of that without Dean there, no matter what - )

But now this, this fucking - he didn't know what this was.  Commentary liked to use all kinds of words to pretty it up, put their dramatic spins on what was going on to over dramatize it, but Seth couldn't find a word himself to describe it.  It just was, a _thing_ he didn't want to put a word to that was making his heart hurt the more he thought about it.  He was _certain_ this was just Dean being angry, but he was also certain there was more than just that under the surface, too.  All the things left unsaid over the last few weeks that Dean refused to talk about with him, with them, and maybe this - maybe tonight was causing it all to rise to the surface.

"Fuck."  Seth muttered, not even a step into their hotel room for the night.  He rubbed at his face, shoved his bags aside, and grabbed the key to the room and his phone before turning and leaving again.  As he stepped into the elevator he sent out another text - his third that night to Dean, the previous two asking if he was all right and where he was, but this one wasn't a question.   _I'm coming to find you_.

It was no surprise that he didn't get a response, and honestly, he didn't expect one either.  But that didn't stop him from pulling up the hood to his jacket and heading out into the cool Chicago night, didn't make him hesitate to head right back down the road towards the arena.  The hotel really wasn't that far, and so he walked. If Dean had decided to walk, which was likely and what he was prone to when he wanted to cool off, then maybe they'd run across each other.  Or Seth would waste the rest of the entire fucking night walking around walking around looking for him, but that didn't really matter. He'd waste the night. It was important.

It'd been a long time since he'd done something like this, but remembering the places Dean liked to frequent came with knowing Dean Ambrose as well as he knew himself.  It was like falling into an old routine, knowing the kinds of places Dean would duck into to grab a beer or catch a game or just to cool down when walking wasn't doing the job.  He'd done this a few times, back when the Shield first got together and Dean disappeared; when he took too long getting back Seth would set out to find him, practically having to hunt him down and then sit with him until Dean was ready to head back.  It had been years, but Seth knew that Dean had liked to drink here, and that dean used to catch a game or two over there if he'd missed it on the road, because they'd play the reruns late at night; the memories only served to add to the ache in his heart, but then again, a lot of older memories still tended to do that.  The rougher things about a brotherhood he'd given up for a brighter future . . . but tonight wasn't about him. So he shoved down the ache, his own guilt as it started slinking in as it did whenever he gave it the chance, and pushed on.

It was when he was almost to the arena that he checked his phone, for something to do other than walking aimlessly, and he saw the interview.  And he watched it, hoping for a little insight into what Dean was feeling - and his heart _twisted_ , so hard that it took his breath away for a moment - but he had to push that down, too.  At least for now. At least until he found Dean.

And that was how he spent the next two hours; walking to the arena, walking back, and then walking in the opposite direction in case Dean decided to _keep_ walking, because he was likely to do that, too.  He kept his phone in his hand in case it went off, from Dean or maybe Roman, because maybe Dean would go to Roman first but - nothing.  He wasn't in any of the spots Seth remembered, he wasn't anywhere, and when Seth checked the time he realized it was getting far too late for this.  At least to be doing this on his own, without a car and without a better plan besides walk around looking, and he reluctantly made his way back to the hotel.

He made it to the lobby before he sat down there to wait instead.  Because when Dean got like this he could take hours, could take until the damn morning if he felt like it, and Seth wasn't going to let him sneak in and pretend it was nothing, not this time.  He wasn't going to head back up to the room and fall asleep, worry sitting deep in the pit of his stomach, sleep like shit, only for Dean to wake him up in the morning and act like nothing was wrong at all.  That was how it had been happening lately and he was just - so _tired_ of it.  For once, he didn't want to pretend nothing was wrong.  Even if the thought of talking about it made him anxious, made the worry in his stomach twist.

Or at least, that had been the plan.

"The fuck are you doing down here, man?"  He didn't remember falling asleep, but he jerked upright as soon as the hand on his shoulder shook him awake, eyes blinking widely and glancing up - at Dean, who looked at him like he was an idiot.  And yeah, he probably was. No, he definitely was. But the _relief_ that instantly washed over him was fucking palpable.

" _Dean_ ."  He breathed, pushing to his feet and nearly stumbling into him, grasping at his arm.  "Where have you _been_?  We've been - "

"Yeah, I know."  Dean interrupted, his voice short and clipped.  The one he used when he didn't want to talk about it.  Seth knew the tone well, had heard it plenty over the last few weeks.

"I came looking for you."  Seth continued a little quieter, as Dean gently extracted his arm and started for the elevator, Seth following behind.  Dean's shoulders hunched as he hit the button and the two stepped in, and he didn't speak again until the elevator creaked and began moving.

"I needed to think."  He said, head lowered, the hat he was wearing shadowing his expression.  Seth wanted to lean over and look up at him, to see what he wasn't saying in his expression, but he managed to resist the urge.  Just barely. "Alone."

"I know, but - "  Seth cut himself off, pursing his lips and shoving his hands into his pockets with a shake of his head.  There were so many things he wanted to say, now that Dean was right here but he was worried every single one of them would come out wrong.  The wrong combination of words, the wrong tone, the wrong order, the wrong anything that would just anger Dean further, fuck up everything for good - and god, he was really good at fucking things up.  That'd top this night off perfectly, wouldn't it?

The silence was near-deafening the rest of the way up to the room, the door closing behind him a thunderous sound.  Seth took a few steps into the room and stopped near the bed as Dean piled his bags into the corner, emptying his pockets on the desk and stripping down to change for bed.  Seth tightened his fingers on his phone, watching, and before he could stop himself he was talking, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

"Do you want me to get another room?  So you can be alone?"

Dean paused, then rolled up his shirt and tossed it on top of his bag.  He turned to glance over his shoulder at Seth. "If I wanted my own room I could've gone and done it myself, Seth."

Seth nodded, faint, relieved, then immediately distracted himself with kicking off his shoes and emptying his own pockets onto the dresser, his hat and jacket tossed onto his suitcase.  He still felt tense, anxious, like even having Dean here had done nothing to ease all the feelings squirming in his stomach. He felt uncertain for the first time too; not about Dean, not specifically, but where just - things were going now.  What tomorrow would bring. What Monday would inevitably stir up. It was a week away and he couldn't help but think about what would happen.

He watched Dean move across the room again, flop onto the bed and flip on the television to some late night show, lowering the volume to a murmur as he settled in.  And like he usually did, Seth flipped off the main light to the room as Dean flipped on the bedside lamp,and it felt familiar and foreign in an odd way, like they were playing the roles they were supposed to be playing for the sake of it and Seth hated it.  Dean was purposely avoiding things and Seth felt like he was avoiding it too and he _hated_ it, and he couldn't do it tonight.  He just _couldn't_.

Not after the interview.  Not when his heart hurt the way it did.

So he crawled onto the bed, and instead of laying down next to Dean like normally would he kneeled there instead, his knee gently bumping into Dean's hip, and took a deep breath.  "Can we talk about it?"

He watched Dean's eyes dart to him, briefly, before going back to the television.  "What's there to talk about?"

"You left us behind in the ring."  Seth answered quietly. He carefully didn't mention the match.

"Ain't the first time I've done something like that."  Was Dean's response, muttered into his thumb as he bit at the corner of it.

"It's the first time you've done it like that."  Seth made sure to keep his voice even and calm, even as his heart began pounding.  He took another breath. "I saw the interview."

The TV shut off and Dean shifted to look up at Seth, his face set in a frown.  "What do you want me to say?"

"Whatever you want to say."  All Seth wanted him to do was _talk_ , to say what was on his mind, what was bothering him, whether it was out of anger or hurt or truth, something, _anything_ that would give him a clue as to how he could help Dean, a scrap of something he could work with.  He felt like he was floundering, all he had to go off of was what Dean had said in the ring and in interviews and that - didn't feel like enough.  He was drowning in his own desire to _help_ but one wrong gasping breath could shatter everything.  He knew that. He knew he had to be careful where he pushed, where he gasped for air, for answers, and where he let himself drown completely.

Dean opened his mouth to answer, tensed like he was going to shut Seth down completely but then he paused, almost considering. There was that odd stillness to him, the one Seth had seen in him since his return.  Where instead of fidgeting like he used to he would just be _still_ , and there was no hand to reach out and still or free from tugging on his hair, just Dean sitting or laying there, as still as he's ever seen him, and Seth still had no idea what to do with that sometimes.  It was hard to read, hard to decipher, and just like Dean was becoming.

"If you saw what I said, then there's no point in repeating it."  Dean finally said, the frown deepening, and almost challenging tone in his expression and his voice.  It was challenging in the way where he wanted to see what Seth had to say, and Seth knew, _knew_ he couldn't fuck this up.  

So he took a deep breath, settling his thoughts and all the words running through his head, and reached for one of Dean's hands.  An anchor of sorts, his fingers curling loosely around his palm, and let out the breath in a rush when Dean didn't immediately pull away.  "You fit in with us, because there _is_ no us without you."

"That's bullshit, you - " Dean started, but Seth shook his head and briefly tightened his fingers, wordlessly silencing Dean's protest.

"There is no us without you."  He repeated it, just to make sure it sunk in.  "I mean it. There _is_ no Shield without you, you have to know that."  Seth searched Dean's face, but there was nothing there; just a frown and furrowed brows and Dean's guards up, secure and steady.  It hurt, even though Dean was still letting them discuss it even a little he was being as defensive as he was - but no, Seth was going to follow this through, say what he need to and set his hurt aside for later.  "You _are_ the Shield.  All three of us are, but _you're_ the one who - you go out there and _mean_ it the most."

"That makes no sense."  Dean huffed and Seth allowed himself a tiny smile.

"Hear me out."  Seth went quiet as he tried to organize his thoughts again, the jumbled mess of words still running through his words.  "You go out there and - you've always been about _family_ and _brotherhood_ and you've never - strayed from that, you know?  You've always stuck to that and that's what everyone loves about you.  You tell everyone the Shield is a brotherhood and people _believe_ you because it's _you_ saying it, because you've always _meant_ it.  They might believe it coming from Roman, but from you?  It's undeniable."

"What about you?"

Seth's smile twisted, just a little.  "You might've forgiven me, but some people haven't yet.  It doesn't mean as much coming from me."

Something changed in Dean's expression then, just the slightest crack in his guard, and Seth knew what he was saying was the right thing.  Maybe it was getting through, maybe it was making him think, but it was doing _something._

"Lately, we go out there and - people are watching _you._ "  Seth scooted closer, his other hand joining to clasp around Dean's, both of them holding tight.  "Everyone goes _crazy_ when you get in the ring, I don't think I've heard them as loud as they were tonight.  They want the Shield, yeah, but they want _you_ the most.  You don't just fit, you _belong_."  It'd been hard to miss the chants for Dean, and he wondered how Dean hadn't heard them, if he'd been caught up in the match or the chaos or in his own head or all three.

Dean still didn't say anything and Seth was running out of things to say that wouldn't tip into things he wasn't sure he wanted to think about - no, things he was sure _Dean_ didn't want to talk about, or would, as much as he was talking about anything.  But he pressed on, as careful as he had been, needing to get out what he need to say before the moment passed.

"I know you're frustrated about how things have been going for you since you got back and - look, I know tonight didn't help, and a lot of shit hasn't been helping."  He started, his voice quieting again. "And I know you don't want to talk about it." He added, when Dean's look sharpened. "But if you ever want to - the option's there, you know that, right?  If you ever do, we can talk about it. I just - "

He swallowed, pausing.  Maybe it was selfish of him, no matter how much he tried to shove it down, to make sure Dean felt like he fit in, because as much as it was true . . . there was no doubt that it was because Seth _knew_ he was at his best when Dean was by his side, too.  Last year had proven it, and Dean coming back had proven it again, and the long stretch in between where he'd floundered without him had been empty without him and the biggest proof of all, for so many reasons.

Dean was still watching him but he didn't dare glance up, to see if the crack in Dean's armor was bigger of he'd managed to close it up without meaning to.  He wasn't done. "If you still - feel the way you do, then that's - that's fine too." It _wasn't_ , god it wasn't fine at _all_ , but this wasn't about how Seth felt.  It couldn't be. "You know I've got your back no matter what."  And for all that he selfishly didn't to think about the possibility of it, of Dean leaving because he felt like he didn't fit, that much was true.  It was so damn true he had to say it out loud, make it real, make Dean _know_ because so many things went unsaid between them all the time and sometimes it had to be put into words to make it the point got driven home.

"I just - that's all.  I just want you think about what I've said."  He finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

It felt like an eternity before either of them spoke again.  Seth sitting there staring at his hands and Dean staring at him, the room completely silent aside from the ambient noise of the city outside muffled through the window or the occasional noise of other hotel patrons in the hallway.  Seth was starting to worry that maybe he hadn't said anything right at all - that maybe all of this had been a bad idea in the first place, telling Dean how he felt, what he thought was true, what he needed Dean to know, with Dean still obviously upset about the whole damn thing -

"Okay."  Dean finally broke the silence, his voice just as quiet as Seth's had been, and Seth let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.  He finally chanced a look at Dean to find him still looking at him and - he was still guarded, but there was something soft in his eyes, just a little, that Seth could grasp onto.  Something he'd said must have made it through, and maybe that meant Dean was going to think about it instead of just suffering through his anger. Maybe, maybe, maybe. It was something.

"Okay."  Seth gave a nod.  He could take that.  That was the something he needed, to keep all the unwanted uncertainty and worry and everything else at bay just a little longer.

He felt a warm hand at the back of his neck pulling him down and he went easily, leaning down into the soft kiss Dean offered.  Something heavy untangled in the mess of his stomach and heart and he breathed out slowly, laying a careful hand on Dean's chest to brace himself.  He felt his heart beating under his palm, steady and calm.

"You got my back, huh?"  Dean murmured without really breaking the kiss, his lips brushing against Seth's when he spoke.  There was nothing in his tone that Seth could really pick out, nothing Dean was giving away.

"I've got your back."  Seth repeated it with every bit of conviction he could put into the words, kissing them into Dean's mouth.  If there was one thing - _one thing_ \- about everything he's said to Dean, that made it through Dean's anger and frustration to stay in his head, despite all the doubts and everything else and it was that?  Then Seth - he could be happy with that.

"All right."  Dean said quietly as he tugged Seth down against him, his arm curling around Seth's shoulders.  And that was the end of the conversation, Seth knew. As Dean rached up to flip off the lamp, as they both shifted to get under the covers, Seth still felt uneasy, but at least this - he couldn't call it a conversation when Dean had said all of a few words to him, made it a little more manageable.  A little less heavy. The ache in his heart wasn't as intense, and he could - deal with this. They both could, as long as Dean knew. He'd said what he needed to, and he could manage this.

At least for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Written from the glass case of emotion I've been trapped in for the last few weeks because DAMN THESE BOYS. And I needed to make it a little better? Maybe? Probably not, oh god.


End file.
